


Plans

by sasswolf



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasswolf/pseuds/sasswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Moriarty thinks that he and Sebastian need to go out and do something fun. Nothing evil, just good old-fashioned quality time. Fluff. Decided to make it it 3 or 4 chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I was browsing the Sherlock kink meme when the most adorable prompt caught my eye and gave me the idea for this (I did use some dialogue from the request, hehe). At the time that I wrote this, I had been RPing MorMor like crazy, so I felt that I needed a little casual/fluff in my life. I'M NOT SURE IF THIS WILL EVER BE FINISHED but maybe some day a miracle will happen???

It was late morning when Sebastian awoke out of a deep sleep. He shielded his eyes with a heavy hand as he turned away from the startling sunlight peeking through his curtains. He was exhausted from a thrilling night of assassination, and his body was reluctant to move.

For a while he lay there, urging the gears in his brain to move, trying to remember the pleasant experiences of the night before. He was on an assignment; an assignment that his boss (his stomach fluttered at the thought of him, as ridiculous as he thought that was) came to observe personally. He relished the memories of his victims' screams, their cries for mercy, as he tortured them. All the while his boss was right there, urging him on, complimenting his "form", and speaking of other nonsensical things as he did his task. He thought of his voice, and his stomach fluttered even more. That voice was like music to him, a hypnotism that bent him to his master's every whim. He would do anything for that man, no matter how extraordinary or menial the request.

Finally, he was able to bring his limbs into motion. Climbing out of bed, he reached for his glasses on his bedside table with one hand and grabbed the novel sitting beside them with the other. He wanted a quiet morning, something to contrast with the recent excitement. A piece of toast, a cup of tea, and a nice read in his favorite chair. Still groggy, he picked up his robe from the carpet and placed it on his shoulders. He opened his bedroom door and headed to the sitting room of the flat that he and his favorite man shared.

After entering the empty room, he sat down in his recliner, deciding to start making his breakfast after a chapter or two. He quite liked this book. It was one of his favorites.

Suddenly, his flat mate appeared in the doorway. He was fully dressed (though quite casually), and he held two mugs in his hands. Walking towards Sebastian with a grin, Jim Moriarty placed one of the mugs beside him.

"It's about time you're up, Sebby." He said teasingly, knowing fully well why his companion had slept in. "I've made you some tea already. Daddy knows just how you like it." The other man smiled as he watched his boss turn and take a seat on the sofa, grabbing some newspapers from the coffee table and beginning to flip threw them.

"Goood, people are so dull." The man said in a moan, throwing the newspapers back on the table. "Our last adventure was like a goldmine within a landscape of dirt. Boring dirt." After rubbing his eyes in a frustrated manner, he sat up and turned towards the man in the recliner.

"Sebastian, we should make plans." He said in earnest suggestion.

"Evil plans?" was the sniper's instinctive response. What other plans would his boss want to make?

"No, uh. Casual ones." Jim said. He clasped his hands together in excitement. "We could go rollerblading on Saturday and then see a movie that night!"

There was a short silence between them after Jim's unexpected request. Finally shaking himself out of his stupor, Sebastian managed to respond.

"Rollerblading and a movie?" he asked. "Like…a date?" His cheeks flushed slightly at the thought, in spite of himself.

"A date!" Jim jumped up quickly off of the sofa and onto his feet. "That's a great idea, Sebastian! We're going on a date." With utmost grace, he swept around the coffee table and crossed the room to plant a swift kiss on his pet's lips. "Forget about Saturday. You have nothing else you need to do today, right? Why am I asking, of course you don't." And with that, he turned and left the sitting area in the direction of his bedroom.

Sebastian was frozen. His boss always teased him. He flirted playfully, and he would call him the silliest endearments. He was used to it by now. Jim Moriarty was not a normal man, and to expect him to act, well, expectedly, could be a fatal mistake. It was wisest to take whatever he did or said without surprise or concern. When he called him pet names (always resulting in that all-too familiar fluttering), or even when faced with the occasional suggestive wink (which, admittedly, has resulted in some bodily reactions a little more significant than stomach fluttering), he would savor the moment inside, but continue to hold a stoic demeanor. The assassin was good at hiding his emotions.

This, however, was completely unlike anything the man had ever presented to him before. It was a simple kiss. Their lips barely grazed. Why, then, did it have such an impact on him? Was it the timing? Was it pure context that made that moment so profound? Or was it the surprise of, after such longing, to receive that terse gesture from the one person he so admired?

He knew it, too. Sebastian knows how he works. He's manipulative; he knows how to make the best impression; the kind of impression that will last. The assassin thought that he was so good at hiding it all. But James Moriarty knows everything.

"Why am I thinking about this so much? He asked me out and gave me a kiss. Big deal." He thought to himself, trying to recover his mind. He was brought completely out of his thoughts by the calling of his name.

"Seeebby! Aren't you going to get ready? Don't you want to look handsome for our daaate~?" Jim called out from his bedroom where, apparently, he was making himself look date-worthy. Sebastian recalled again why he thought his voice to be hypnotic. His ecstatic use of emphasis on words and the playfully varying tone he spoke them with made his skin crawl delightfully every time he had the pleasure to hear the sound.


	2. It's a date!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, would you look at that! I'm actually writing more! I could have just finished most of it in one chapter, but I like to work in small parts. So, this will either end next chapter with their movie or there will MAYBE be another chapter of whatever I'm planning after that (but that's a supriiissee~). We'll see!

Sebastian shook himself out of his stupor and proceeded to his room. "Yeah, yeah. Just a minute boss." he said as he passed the other man's doorway.

"Now Seb, today is a casual day, remember?" Jim chuckled. "Let's forget stuffy titles. Call me Jim, or Jimmy, or or honey-bunches, or snookie-muffin. I like that. Snookie-muffin." the other man could practically hear him smirking from his own room.

"How about just Jim...Jim." It took the sniper a bit of effort to say his boss's name. At first he thought that it felt a bit peculiar. It quickly grew on him, however. "Right. Clothes." he thought. "What do people wear to these things?" he mumbled to himself.

"Oooh~ I know! Wear that button-up shirt. You know, the one you got last week? It fits your form so well~." Jim chimed in, having overheard him.

Sebastian blushed hard at that comment. How often did that man think about his form? "Right, right..." He rummaged through his dresser. He found the shirt in question. Unfortunately, it wasn't in any condition to be worn on a date, or in public at all for that matter. It was covered in blood and torn in several places; a result of a well-executed mission. Slightly panicking, ("Why should I care what I'm wearing? It's just clothes!") he searched for another worthy candidate. After choosing another shirt of similar design and finding slacks that he hoped went well with it, he left his room to check on his flat mate.

Jim was still in front of the mirror pampering himself. He was putting product in his hair. "You clean up well." he said, looking at the other man's reflection in front of him and grinning. "C'mere." Jim grabbed Sebastian by the hand and pulled him by his side in front of the mirror. "We could do something with that hair." he said, reaching towards his dresser and grabbing more product. Sebastian felt a bit wary (he never put anything in his hair), but he allowed his boss to have his way without a word. Jim, standing on tip-toe, began running his fingers through the others hair, dispersing the wax. Sebastian was taken aback by the sensation and it took him nearly every ounce of himself to resist blushing terribly. Jim continued to play with his hair for a while, and Sebastian began to wonder whether or not it was entirely necessary. He was especially curious of the other's excessive massaging of his scalp. "It needs to get at the roots, dear, or do you want it to go flat in 10 minutes?" he said in that all-too-familiar teasing tone when noticing the conflicted look on his partner's face. Sebastian highly doubted the truthfulness of that statement.

Finally, they were ready to leave. They grabbed their jackets and headed out the door. Just as their cab pulled up to the curb, droplets of rain started to fall on their heads. "Just our luck." Sebastian said in an undertone. "Damn British weather."

"Don't worry, Seb, we'll be inside!" Jim said as the two of them climbed in. "Besides, don't try to hide it. I know how hopeful you are of being kissed in the rain~" He was teasing him again. Always with the teasing. Could he not see what it did to him? He probably did, and that's probably why he did it. He didn't respond, not that he was capable of saying anything anyway.

By the time they arrived at the roller skating rink, it was a torrential downpour. They quickly got out of the cab and hurried inside. Despite this, they were drenched. "What a shame! Your hair is ruined." Jim said, reaching up his hand to stroke Sebastian's head. "After all that time I spent making you look sharp." he said this with a dissapointed tone, but his face wore a clever smile. Sebastian became uncomfortably aware of how other people were staring at them. Though he really didn't wish to, he pulled his head away from the other man's incessant stroking. Jim just looked at him and smiled. He knew. Of course he knew.

They made their way across the entrance to the counter for some roller blades. They told the man working there their sizes and he handed them their blades. It was at that moment when Sebastian realized something that he should have considered a long time ago: he didn't know how to roller blade. At all. Not in the least.

Jim sat on a bench and began to lace up his own blades. "Hurry up, Sebby. It's time for this date to officially begin!" he chirped. Sebastian looked at him with what he hoped was a stoic expression.

"Uh, yeah, about that. Why don't you go ahead. Roller blading's not really my thing, see-" he began, attempting to sound like his usual, unconcerned self.

Jim, however, wasn't going to fall for it that easily. He was a genius, after all.

"Haha!" he laughed suddenly and quite loudly, drawing the attention of the people around them. Sebastian always worked best with an audience, after all. "You're not afraid of a little roller blading, are you? My big bad ex-military man?" 

Sebastian tried to remain calm. "No, sir, I mean, Jim. I just don't fancy it, is all..." he could feel his composure crumbling around him. The last thing that he wanted was to feel so embarrassed in front of this man. This man that he most admired. Even if it was only such a silly thing as roller blading.

Jim Moriarty did not seem to feel as strongly about it, however. In fact, he was clearly amused. "C'mon, get them on! I'll show you how." he made sure to speak with enough volume to maintain the attention of everyone around them. Sebastian knew it, too. He gave in and sat down next to the other man. It took some time for him to even figure out how to lace the things up, but with Jim's guidance he was soon ready to stand.

"Just hold on to me." Jim stood up and offered his partner his shoulder.

"N-no. I can do it on my own, thanks." Sebastian was a man. He was the second most dangerous man in England, behind his boss, of course, and he was not going to cling on to someone else like an 6-year-old at his birthday party. Slowly (and gripping the bench much harder than necessary), he stood up.


End file.
